


Affectionate Tribute

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Jobs Happen, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Play, Emetophilia, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Mindbreak, Mouth Kink, Office Sex, Service Top, Toothbrushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi gets certain ways when he doesn't, to be polite, gain enough satisfaction. It's annoying and the man quite frankly hates it. Just not nearly as much as he used to.Shuichi prides himself in being part of the reason why.Of course, he's also glad to be so teasingly referred to as 'Royal Concubine' - regardless or because of his abilities to fulfill what such a title entails. No matter how disgusting others might find certain methods of relief. Which seems to be necessary when he finds Kokichi in his office, wearing hat and cape.What else can Shuichi, boyfriend and member of DICE, do other than please his Leader?





	Affectionate Tribute

**Author's Note:**

> Ao3 won't let me add custom tags rn. 
> 
> Hypersexual Kokichi, mindbreak, toothbrushing, Alternate Universe Jobs Happen. 
> 
> But like anyway yo. 
> 
> Vomit. 
> 
> And that's really it. This is a request fill that I went galaxy brain on and was given permission to turn into a full fic. Because. Vomit. 
> 
> Kokichi vomiting. 
> 
> End transmission tbh lmao we all been knew 😤

"We need to steal the diamond. How exactly can we steal the diamond without the stupid rubber chickens?" Kokichi whispers with both hands on his seldom used cap, cradling and pulling, eyes nearly stabbing into the surface of an ebony desk. 

This is an odd welcome back from a three day trip to Osaka, Shuichi thinks. 

Shuichi then privately reminds himself to not think about how his boyfriend looks a victim of ghostly possession. Yet, Kokichi's face is so focused on nothing that it's unnerving. Two hours of this and the man is still zoning out. In Shuichi’s plant filled office, of course, after claiming it for DICE; complete with his full uniform of hat and cape on. As though Shuichi hasn't already done what adds up to compromising himself for the organization. Not that the Ultimate Detective is upset by it. 

Living with Kokichi's eventual victory is something that Shuichi is glad for. Joining DICE and fully committing is fulfilling. Conflict of interest aside… 

"For starters," the man begins, tone light but fondly sarcastic, something that draws purple eyes towards him. Shuichi almost pauses at the interest in that gaze. He then continues, "You could always not talk about your crimes with your detective boyfriend."

Hazy eyes lock onto Shuichi’s hips instead of his lips. It's in that moment that everything clicks. All together, both men understand that one person's annoyance can be another's living hell. One person with slight headache can coexist with someone that has migraines each day. Thus, just as simply, one person's libido can require occasional masturbation while someone else needs to fuck five people each day. 

Pitch black shoes click against coffee brown hardwood as the Detective approaches. 

Ouma Kokichi is very much near that last person. His 'fucked up need to get off all the time' is something that used to cause genuine distress. Now though, Shuichi understands why his boyfriend has to masturbate so much. Whether they have sex that day or not. Kokichi just isn't wired to stay unaroused throughout the day, and it's never a fleeting thing. Just the same in that Shuichi doesn't mind acting as his ‘Royal Concubine’. 

Gaining better sexual stamina is something that Shuichi is proud of. 

The other man still gets self conscious about asking though. A fact that Shuichi can admit angers him in the abstract. Knowing that Kokichi feels ashamed of himself for needing help, of any sort, burns. 

Fingers slowly press down on deeply colored wood. The room is heating as Kokichi flushes, his irises obscured by dilated pupils and his lips parting. It's something that his outfit can't distract from. Shuichi merely smiles down at the man he loves. Already, the detective can see how the Ultimate Supreme Leader squirms. He doesn't even need to say anything. Nothing is to be said when Kokichi is like this. 

Although, some very effective apologies are in order. 

“If I don't tell my informant about the heist, then he can't tell me anything. Even Shumai should know something as simple as that. Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?” the man murmurs breathlessly. 

Hazy purple flutters shut as Kokichi shudders. Then the man lowers his head until laying on the desk. It seems like he's starting to give up. Shuichi wonders if Kokichi is about to demand begging, or if he's going to try further deflection until the Detective brings it up first. Both are time honored methods for Kokichi to use. As the Ultimate Supreme Leader and someone who blankets himself in falsehood- Ouma Kokichi is rarely straightforward in the truest sense of the word. He's just not the type to bluntly ask. 

Kokichi fidgets and pants harshly, thighs obviously rubbing together under the cape obscuring him, “Shumai is awful for breaking his phone! For three days, I… waaah! I could have died!”

“Breaking it wasn't my intention, and I did try to call you after my cell phone broke. Forgetting that though,” the Detective pauses while watching his boyfriend and technical leader writhe in his comfortable office chair. It's not the outlandish throne back at DICE headquarters, but perhaps some carnal fun would be possible. 

“Are you alright, Ouma-kun?”

The question makes Kokichi's head tilt upwards. His black hat and all it's military esque glory slowly tilt towards the desk. Glaring eyes seething with lust lock onto him, and both men seem to maintain this. 

Purple and black, dilated pupils, drag themselves down the covered contours of Shuichi’s body. 

“Hearing Saihara-chan ask that is just wonderful,” the man grunts. His voice is low but almost seething. Kokichi sneers and huffs, “Saihara-chan is sooo lucky that he's pretty! Half the time it's just so clear that people only want to grab your hips and fuck you.”

Shuichi’s eyebrows raise at that. He's tempted to ask if Kokichi is one of those people. It's rather unfortunate that the man himself isn't prepared for penetrative sex. The Detective knows just how much his lover likes to spank him during anal, but Kokichi's behavior speaks of a very different preference. A Kokichi that wants to dominate or top doesn't wallow like this. Usually. Shuichi is very aware of how surprising his lover can be. 

One small rush flashes down the man's spine as he catches Kokichi squirming again. 

“You've been doing your best without me, right? Ouma Kokichi's best is always something that earns… praise. There's a reason why you're our leader,” Shuichi carefully states while a flush spreads across his face. He leans down and smiles when Kokichi pushes himself up. 

“Saihara-chan isn't the one who gets to decide anything about leadership!” the man snaps as their lips grow closer. “That's not up to a bed warmer.”

Abrupt shudders attack the Detective as his mouth fills with saliva. Hearing such things from his lover's- boss's mouth is always humbling in the best ways. It certainly is Shuichi’s unofficial role at times too. The person that helps tame Kokichi's libido and urges is him, and neither man has issues with prescribing a label to it. Shuichi is the Royal Concubine, who warms their bed, the Ultimate Supreme Leader's beloved with not an inch of remaining prudish manner. 

Kokichi's relief and peace of mind. 

“I love you,” the Detective says in reply. 

Laughter echoes against parted lips, and Kokichi's voice murmurs against them, “How cruel. You saying that is a slap to face, and that's not a lie.”

Their kiss is careful and slow. At first it only consists of lips pressing against lips. It's a sweetness that betrays Kokichi's earlier ire as a minor ruse, but frustration does bleed through. Slight roughness from lack of chapstick makes them both lick their lips. Kokichi lets out a needy hum, overeagerly nipping, when their tongues finally meet. Rationality fades in favor of Shuichi chasing after that slick muscle. He finds himself tilting his head for easy access, and Kokichi is more than happy to welcome him in. 

Drinking him in, that's what the other man is doing. Kokichi pushes them further together and twists his tongue against Shuichi’s own. It's delicious inside of him- faint hints of coffee with a subtle caramel tinge. Not that it matters when Shuichi loves each kind of kiss. Whether Kokichi tastes like pure sugar or not, the Detective loves feeling him. The only way that Shuichi favors sweet things is when the taste is on his lover's lips.

Hands balls up into Shuichi's button down shirt. They pull while Kokichi pushes the rest of himself up onto the desk, airy moans filling the air. 

Shuichi remembers how the other man describes it. Itchy, like a burning pit is eating him. A fog that settles over his mind to make him hazy. That Kokichi, with all his terrifyingly complex thoughts, becomes overtaken by a singular focus; the need for some kind of sexual satisfaction. He can't rest and he can't think, yet the thoughts never cease. 

It's like a borderline compulsion that has Kokichi swamped in fantasy and masturbation to the point of pain. So, how could Shuichi stand himself doing anything other than help?

Rivets of saliva are flooding down Kokichi's lips when they finally break away. 

Each moment of worry back when they first started dating has been worth it. There's been work, a lot, but to see Kokichi becoming more and more at ease…

A pale hand smoothes out the Ultimate Supreme Leader's hair. Shuichi tucks away errant locks and brushes down flyaway strands. He smiles at the needy whines that thank him. The man on his desk is like a gift of stainless white, bright contrast in the sophisticated wooden hues of Shuichi’s office. Especially when each thing in the room is dedicated to an antique aesthetic. Kokichi stands out no matter where he is, but the red flush creeping down past his scarf highlights it. 

Beautiful is the only thing that describes him. 

Only seconds later and Kokichi is unclasping his cape. It falls behind him with a flutter, and both of them soon turn the desk into their newest love nest. The Detective can't resist the stirring of his own lusts. Kokichi is a perfect picture beneath him- one hand clenching his cape and the other hiding his mouth. No words, of course not, the man is all anticipation and want as black and white fabric flutters to the floor as well. 

He's striking with those eyes of his glimmering in warm lamplight. 

Gold and purple meet while Shuichi undoes Kokichi's belt buckle, and the Detective notes a small plastic bottle in one pocket. He doesn't doubt that DICE’s leader has prepared himself for anything. 

Yet the most obvious thing is the bulge distorting white pants. It seems that Kokichi really has been waiting for this. Shuichi flounders with the urge to use his mouth. To take lean down and let the man's cock bump against the back of his throat. Feeling those veins pulse against his tongue is always a treat. 

“Saihara-chan looks like he has my brain right now,” comes a low huff, Kokichi snarling a teasing grin up at the Detective. “We can't both be dumb sluts.”

“Dumb slut is... definitely not what you are.”

Kokichi blinks at him and laughs, body twisting as if to dance against his cape, and the man seems to preen. His grin morphs into an entirely too innocent smile, “Am I supposed to be an intelligent slut then? Should I try to do all my work while you ram my tiny asshole with your hwwwuuuge penis? Is my sex slave saying that I'm a very respectable receptacle for his cum?”

Laughter spills out of Shuichi’s lips before he can stop it. Hearing it seems to make the man beneath him relax. Still, it's a little bit concerning and his hands pause just as they pull down bright green underwear. Kokichi talking like this about himself can be anything from self-depreciation to innocent teasing to-

A nudge from Kokichi's legs pulls Shuichi from his thoughts. 

“Jeez, stop staring into space like that! Shumai is probably getting a headache from worrying too. A good concubine should focus on pleasing his ruler,” the Ultimate Supreme Leader demands with zero subtleties. He spreads his legs and better exposes himself with zero hesitance. 

It looks like someone has been rubbing himself raw again, the Detective notices. That certain puts a damper on Shuichi’s plan for frottage. Oral might be more painful than preferred as well. Sadism and masochism are well and good, but he doesn't really think that outright pain would be appropriate. Not when Kokichi's hands are anxiously fidgeting against black cloth. 

Pulling Kokichi's pants and underwear off of him leads into turning him over. It's like a grand tease that makes the Detective lick his lips. Kokichi's body is an elegant thing of pale skin and Shuichi soon spreads pert ass cheeks to reveal a twitching hole, and his lover moans happily when a gentle thumb caresses him. 

There doesn't seem to be any pain from just touching here, the man happily notes. 

Shuichi grabs the lube and vigorously rolls it between his palms. It's already warm, but there's no harm in making sure. Quiet grumbles pair with Kokichi's opening winking. The display is quite arousing whether on purpose or not. Days of little to no contact have been rough on the Detective as well. 

He honestly can't wait to run his hands down Kokichi's skin, to feel that familiar body heat. Maybe Shuichi himself is just a little addicted after all these years. 

Warm lubricant runs down his hand in slow tickles. The sight of how Kokichi shivers, body twitching like a livewire, makes the man snap the bottle shut and quickly coat his fingers. Each digit becomes slick with it before they make their way down towards the pucker of Kokichi's asshole. It contracts and expands at the gentle touches that circle around it, the rim relaxing slowly. Shuichi can tell that Kokichi has been trying to satisfy himself there too. 

Reddened from previous play, Shuichi’s caresses coax the hole into opening just a bit. A few drops of lube escape it and join what's already being rubbed onto sensitive skin. 

“You always take sooo long. Doesn't Saihara-chan get that foreplay is a waste of time? Mmmhnn~?” Kokichi murmurs with obvious relief in his voice. The man hums languidly, legs spreading further around Shuichi’s body. “This is such a horrible thing to do… I should order you to stop hesitating an- Hhaah?!”

One lube wet slap reverberates around the room. The flesh of Kokichi's firm rump jiggles for a moment. Kokichi himself is frozen on the desk, hands balled into his cape. 

Purple eyes and a flushed glare shoot backwards, judging, “If Shumai doesn't do that again then he's going to get tied up and have pies thrown at him.”

“Exactly what kind of pie?” Shuichi asks. 

“The ‘spank me again or else’ pie,” is the growl that he receives in response. 

Content amusement tempers the urge to obey. For all that Kokichi will make moves towards instant gratification, they both know that he prefers to work hard. Each claim of knowing each possible shortcut is rebuked by the Ultimate Supreme Leader's actions. Shuichi smiles and rubs the skin in front of him. His hands knead soft flesh without paying any mind to resulting whines. Kokichi's body is one made from constant activity, firm with lean muscles. 

But the man can't quite escape from stubborn caches of fat. Especially now, when everyone is older and Kokichi spends just a little too much time planning ‘Criminal Acts’. Areas like squishy upper thigh give into Shuichi’s grip. It's wonderful to see how each touch makes Kokichi squirm. 

Sighing, the Detective squeezes his lover's ass one last time. Then he leaves a loud and open handed swat right on Kokichi's left ass cheek. It's a swift slap that rings out through the air. Yet the other man remains perfectly silent. Kokichi's eyes stare into Shuichi's with a challenge. One that makes the man swallow harshly, and it's not from dislike. 

Another moment passes and again- Shuichi’s hand targets the pale flesh in front of him. He inhales sharply as the force of it makes his own hand sting. Kokichi's body up as well, but the other Ultimate lets out only a muffled hiss. Shuichi rubs at warming skin comfortingly. 

Then his hand rains down as much as possible. 

Each slap rings out with a hint of wetness and drags more noises from Kokichi's lips. A fifth spank to the right makes the man raise his ass higher. The tenth to the left coerces a wilting moan. Shuichi’s hands rush down during a short intermission, grabbing hold of his work and running fingernails down warmth. Kokichi's ass is red from all the attention. Moans finally break free when the Detective spreads him again. 

Kokichi's opening is winking, twitching, so relaxed and greedy for attention that it's shocking. 

He whimpers, fingers spasming against cloth while Shuichi slips his own inside. Kokichi's head raises and his hips move back for more. It's slick and overwhelmingly soft within him. Burning hot, and his inner walls feel velvetine as they embrace the digits rubbing them. There's so much lube that loud squelches fill the air around them. Shuichi licks his lips but continues to gently swirl his fingers. 

“Really… being honest now. Ha! Saihara-chan is so,” comes Kokichi's lustful voice. The man's head is completely resting on the table, his body twitching. 

“If you're going to say perverted, I think that the pervert here is you.”

Feverish purple and a lewd grin. 

“Saihara-chan has been thinking about me this whole time, right?” Kokichi asks, the sound of him sending jolts of arousal down Shuichi’s spine. “Shumai must have missed how much I love him bending me over, how I'm always ready and loose- from his-”

More fingers slip past a welcoming sphincter, and Shuichi’s eyes burn with interest as his leader struggles. He can feel each throb and pulse traveling through Kokichi's body. The Detective can see it, he can feel it, the way that the other man is barely holding on. 

Gasping siren calls reach his ears. The man pays them no mind, and instead spreads the four fingers inside of Kokichi's heat. He rubs, swirls, presses down and teases that wonderful spot called the prostate. It slowly swells under Shuichi’s loving affections. More whimpers and even aborted pleading are offered to him. 

Kokichi even groans when the fingers leave, only to mumble happily when they spread his rim wide open. His silky wet insides are exposed for Shuichi’s eyes only. Red and absolutely begging for something to stretch them. To pound away until the Ultimate Supreme Leader is satisfied. 

The sight is amazing, and the man can't help but softly remark, “You're definitely the pervert here, Ouma-kun. Leaking lube and gaping from simple preparatory foreplay.”

“I'll be… your cockslut for just today. Shuichi can be the Leader instead,” Kokichi says. He shivers and pushes out against the fingers exposing him. “Can't wait anymore.”

Shuichi stares at his boyfriend but wastes no time in readying himself. Lubricant is smeared along his cock, the length of it something that Kokichi has spent hours sucking, and both of them moan when the head enters tight heat. Minutes seem to go by as more and more slips in. Kokichi's ass provides zero resistance. His body merely falls limp against the desk, white top riding up and showing off his back. Inside of the man is that familiar softness combined with thumping need. 

“Yes, yes, please,” comes small murmurs. Wanton, the whispers pour from drool covered lips. Rasps of relief flood out too. Kokichi's eyes are half closed and misty, rapturous, “Shuichi’s is finally in again, o-ooh he's just waaaay too much. Big, nishishishi- Oh! More, more, there's still mor-more in me? Shuiichi… splitting me open again, fuck me fuck me fuck!”

He really did his best waiting, Shuichi thinks. 

For a few minutes there's only the slightest rocking of hips. The sensation of Kokichi's body remaining pliant. Shuichi watches with wonder as stress vanishes from the once high-strung man.

Just a handful of gentle thrusts reveal what the Detective already knows. Kokichi's body won't tense up at all. He remains the same, borderline limp, and is so content that the only reactions are intoxicated smiles and babbling. It spurs Shuichi on to the point of pulling all the way out. Then, impulsively, the man thrusts back in so roughly that Kokichi shrieks. A keening and ecstasy filled kind of noise. One that pairs with his body twitching. 

Drops of saline bud up in the corners of purple eyes. Only a winded mewl comes from Kokichi afterwards, his upper body twisting. The tears are as lovely as always. 

Actual tears are not often something that Ouma Kokichi exposes. Shuichi’s mind thus fixates on them, on how they make the other man's eyes glisten and what comes with them. Tiny hitches in Kokichi's breathing. Involuntary twitches or even chest heaving dye to sobbing. Liking the sight of Kokichi's tears is strange, of course, but Kokichi himself tends to…

Moaning, Shuichi rolls his hips forward. He does so in a far more gentle manner. There's no point in going full throttle just to reach orgasm. 

Purple eyes stare up at him with a happy vacancy as a smile crosses Kokichi's face. It's just as hazy as the look in his eyes. The man clenches down around Shuichi’s cock, once and twice while slow thrusting coaxes murmurs. Small admissions of pleasure or Shuichi’s name- paired with slickness and velvety heat.

"Ouma-kun, you really do feel good... I think that you're always amazing," Shuichi softly remarks, hands trailing over exposed skin. His fingers flirt with the still present shirt and slowly hike it further up. Pale skin with a slight shimmer of sweat meet him, and Kokichi's head turns away from him.

"Everyone always listens to what you say no matter what. Even when they think they don't, or you think that too, Ouma-kun has such an effect on people," the man continues. Shuichi’s hips slowly picking up in speed as his lover's body convulses around him, his voice deepening from lust, "Ouma-kun commands attention and an audience just by breathing. That's what I know! E-even now when you're writhing and, ah-!" 

Hands grip down as Kokichi's own hips break their stubborn stillness, energy finally breaking past that limp relief. The man's head rises again as a truly wanton moan haunts the air. Shuichi’s eyes track each flowing reaction. Pleasure, need, and even discomfort; like this it's as though he can see each thing driving Kokichi onwards.

Loud and incoherent gasps are soon followed by laughter. Another thrust at a slightly different angle draws forth a strangled whine. Kokichi forces himself up on trembling arms and looks back with a frantic gaze. The tears must make it hard to see with how thick and numerous they are, but the Ultimate Supreme Leader seems more than capable. 

Time apart isn't too unusual at all in the end, and Shuichi wonders about the other variables. Yet the thought fades when a Kokichi's wet lips open to reveal drool. He gulps just before a trail of it drips down. Kokichi's entire body looks like a gratuitous display, one that Shuichi wants to pin down and give much needed respite. Instead, the Detective can't help himself. 

Shuichi leans in as close as possible just to pull Kokichi into a kiss.

"F-fuck meee, come on come on just please fuck me and fill me up?" Kokichi rambles against his lips. Spit momentarily connects the two of them. A giggling mewl marks yet another clench of the man's pelvic muscles. 

Breathy and hot. Kokichi's words and his tone are the same as well. He's pressing into the way that Shuichi’s body weighs down on him, and the other man remembers well the sight of how the rim enveloping him looks when getting fucked. Embracing his cock with each thrust or twitching from the lightest touch.

"You really do love letting your mind go blank in the end," the Detective fondly murmurs against a reddened ear. A protest stifles itself, but Shuichi’s hips begin to move in earnest. 

Rocking forward more sharply draws a similar moan. Shuichi himself groans from the added stimulation of Kokichi's movements. Then he squeaks, unprepared for the force that meets him when he slams his hips forward. Wet slapping sounds fill his ears as he chases after more and more of that snug feeling. It's impossible for him to fully process everything about it. Only that Kokichi's inner walls are soft, giving, and unbearably tight. 

"N-no I don't! I definitely don't and- Shumai~! Shumai, Shumai is... Don't pull out like that!" the other man weakly snaps. 

Kokichi's words herald an almost shocked series of moans. Shuichi uses his hands to hold onto slim hips, fingers brushing thick peach fuzz, and he quickly pistons into the man below him. He can't get nearly enough of the Ultimate Supreme Leader's slickness and heat. 

“This part of you is awe inspiring too, but I know that Ouma-kun can't admit that yet-”

“Shumai looking at me and s-seeing someone good isn't fair,” Kokichi hisses, head tossing, and black-plum hair framing a flushed face. His lips twisting into a pleased smile despite his words.

But then it twists into a grimace of ecstasy, the only way that Shuichi can describe it. Nothing about the other man is composed now. There's no trickster grim, no knowing gaze, only carnal abandon; Kokichi's voice ringing out, "Shhhuuu-ichi!" 

Kokichi is tight and spasming around him. Orgasm has him letting out small and aborted groans, but Shuichi knows better. There's no way that Kokichi could ever be satisfied with just this. Lubricant creates a loud and slippery mess between them. Shuichi’s steady thrusting echoes throughout the room. A perfect chorus for the man below him to match. 

It's just as perfect inside too. The Detective loves the velvety and silky texture of Kokichi's inner walls. Each inch is a snug bend that accepts what Shuichi provides. Kokichi himself seems to go into a trance from the slightest stimulation. Not that he can help it, from that, both of them can lose their minds. 

"Ahlllmosht, 'im ah-ahhh! Noooooo," Kokichi whines dramatically when Shuichi gently grabs his erection, twitching all over. "Nnnhoooo-ohnrgh? Not there, I wanna cum jhust from Shumai's dick!" 

Shuichi eyes the deranged grin on Kokichi's face. Takes in the weakening of his lover's arms, how his fingers claw into endless black fabric. All signs are pointing towards Kokichi loving this. Everything about the man is already wrecked beyond repair. Which means that only one way of resetting him exists. It's not a new song and dance, and they're both skilled at the steps. But he removes his hand just in case. 

"W-wahnt Saihara-chan to make me so sore. Make me cum…"

"From only anal?" a deep and joyful grunt turns into a shout, Shuichi’s cock pounding right into Kokichi's prostate. Scattered pleading reaches the Detective's ears like worship. Then, purposefully, he slams their hips together so hard that the slaps are deafening. 

One moment passes.

"N-no! I lied, I fucking lied, please touch me!" Kokichi demands, growling while his hips rock. 

Golden eyes watch Kokichi become limp and incomprehensive of anything but their bodies. Pulses alert him, and Shuichi’s hand grows wet with semen. Kokichi's face becomes hidden from view. Moans trickle from no doubt spit soaked lips. Whispers of please follow until Shuichi smiles. He jerks his lover off, just a bit roughly, and knows that Kokichi loves this type of overstimulation play the most. 

"Milk… me… ruin me all over again and make me f-faint from it," the other man whispers, voice husky, his body rocking like a doll from harsher and harsher thrusts. 

The man sounds like sin and chocolate paired with wine. Shuichi can't find the strength to deny him, not right now. He stifles a high pitched whine of his own and grips Kokichi's hip tighter. Inside of Kokichi is what feels like an inferno. Both of them are burning up with lust, and for one of them it's almost literal. 

Softness, tight like a vice despite the rest of Kokichi being reduced to a laughing-drooling pile. No one else could be so endearing wanton. It brings an idea to Shuichi’s mind. He quickly releases Kokichi's flank and cock, missing the sensations, and raises the man's lolling head. Only a short gurgle occurs before the Detective's fingers swipe at lips. 

Drooling profusely, fingers splayed out listlessly- Kokichi almost seems to be unresponsive. Then his lazy tongue flicks waiting fingertips. It's easy to gently plunge them inside too. Shuichi finds himself hearing and feeling that messy mouth suckling. A lick, a suck, an action that has no name other than waiting; Shuichi rubs his digits against the hedonistic silk called 'the inside of Kokichi's cheeks'. 

He massages Kokichi's own ejaculate into a pliant tongue.

Even Kokichi's legs start to grow limp then. Choked and wet noises vibrate against Shuichi’s fingers, but the best sounds are from their skin colliding. Kokichi's ass has even started to grow a bit loose. Gold eyes dart down and narrow happily at the sight of their physical connection. Shuichi watches how that hole moves with him and swallows up his cock. 

Bottoming out, the man starts to thrust rapidly while clinging to his lover. Kokichi moans around him, tongue being nearly groped just before Shuichi’s fingers go farther back.

It takes just a few seconds for Shuichi to press his weight down. He's almost spooning his lover now, embracing everything about the other man. Kokichi can't even form words anymore. And Shuichi knows just how to top things off- he knows how to make Kokichi's next orgasm all he needs.

"Ouma-sama," Shuichi demurely gasps, completely genuine in how apologetic he sounds. He keeps his voice low but not deep. Respectful, yet only in the context of talking to his better, "I'm so sorry for neglecting your needs. Please let me make up for it. There's no excuses for my behavior! I'll give everything I have to correct my mistake. Ouma-sama can use me or punish me however he likes."

"As your lowly concubine."

Kokichi's breath against his fingers is sublime. 

"Because I exist for your pleasure..."

Helpless sobbing and almost smug moans are Shuichi’s reward. As is the arching of Kokichi's body, the hitching of voice and air, the struggle of muscles and limbs- Kokichi is alive with a building climax. Shuichi leans in close towards a reddened ear. They're utterly together with not an iota of space to be found. Kokichi's vocals are relentless, of only in how close he is, a song that Shuichi is addicted to. 

Shuichi smiles against Kokichi's twitching ear, "I love you so much Kokichi. Do you want me to swear fealty to you, again? Do you want me to kiss your feet? Do you want me to sit below the table again, during a meeting, and let you use my face to gain relief over and over?"

Convulsions. Kokichi's muffled screams, his gagging, all of him is singing while Shuichi makes shallow thrusts. Even this level of stamina is just a hard earned skill though. Shuichi isn't going to last any longer than this. He's almost done. 

"Or maybe I'll get locked into bondage again... So that my Master can ruse me at his leisure."

Another thrust and those fingers pull themselves free. Shuichi forces himself still just before caressing Kokichi's open lips. The other man eagerly licks at them, his hips continuing to thrust back. It's not even a question- Kokichi wants those digits to go back inside of his mouth.

He can't have that just yet though. Shuichi wants to make this the best possible orgasm, something that makes up for lost time, and he knows exactly how. It's a kink that Kokichi has but doesn't often feel like fulfilling too. The Detective certainly understands why his lover will brush past the topic as well. Even so, Shuichi himself has grown quite willing to perform. 

Kokichi takes deep breaths which seem timed to match shudders. He careens his neck back, eyes staring and full of haze.

"Ouma-sama really likes his mouth getting fondled. Could I perhaps go further, to truly satiate you?" Shuichi gently questions with nothing less than respect, eyes lowered to avoid challenging his Leader.

Purple eyes, glazed- yet shining like the world as seen through polished marbles, close while Kokichi chuckles. A wry grin spreads across the man's face. Sweat coats them both in a sheen that reflects light. The office smells both like the flowers growing in their pots, and the sex which has made a window fog. 

"Y-you are... A quality sex slave, right? Hurry up then!" Kokichi grits, hisses, seething with not anger but frenzied lust.

Shuichi smiles fondly and watches his lover return to laying on the black cape. Then he slowly caresses spit covered lips, feeling the soft and slick skin with the pads of his fingers. A long moan just barely reverberates against him. It's then that Shuichi dips back inside.

Drool races past gentle fingers and then drips down Kokichi's chin. The Detective can only imagine how damp the cloth below is. But Shuichi’s goal is no longer some simple mouth play, his aim isn't a pleasant surprise of disturbed speech. His pale fingers again swirl along cheek, tongue, even teeth and palate; but the sucking of them is merely a bit of foreplay.

Carefully and steadily, Shuichi begins to sink his fingers farther back. He takes in how Kokichi's ass tightens. A pleased murmur fills the man's burning hot mouth. Shuichi abruptly thrusts his hips to match his lover's own, and it produces a high pitched keening that devolves into the sound of Kokichi slobbering.

The Detective pants, barely holding on and knowing exactly what will make him give into climax, "You're sure that I can do this for you?"

A mere second passes, then a grunt and-

"Fu...fueath! Ye-eeafth! Ph-puhleassh!" Kokichi tries frantically to give consent, nodding his head as much as possible and babbling lovingly around the three fingers in his mouth.

It's easy to go from filling up an oral cavity to attempting something very different. Doing it could be likened to finger fucking Kokichi's face, but Shuichi can't really say that. There's been plenty of that with other things and different results. 

No, this is a purposeful act that took quite some time to approach. Something that the Ultimate Supreme Leader claims to have never done with anyone else. A claim that Shuichi believes due to both trust and copious evidence. 

Ouma Kokichi, Ultimate Supreme Leader, would never let anyone but Shuichi make him puke. He barely even allows DICE to care for him when ill. But they both know that the relief is worth it- that Kokichi's 'disgusting preoccupation actually forget this' gets him off in record time. They don't do it in any common capacity though. Shuichi would hate for something meant to be enjoyable to become unhealthy. 

Slowly- he feels his way towards the back of Kokichi's tongue. The other man clenches tightly onto Shuichi’s cock. Fingers curl upwards and graze across where the roof goes from hard palate to soft. A rush of saliva drenches everything to the point of rivets traversing a pale wrist. Breathing, vibrations from Kokichi's vocal cords, and three digits continue on.

The wetness only emboldens them both. Kokichi's hands twitch against his cape, scratching the fabric loud enough for Shuichi to hear it. Fingers gently swirl the very end of Kokichi's 'mouth'- investigating. He finds familiar bumps and a well known dip. Investigating the soft palate earns him a gasping breath and then a slight gag. 

He plunges his fingers further in and relishes at each breath. Shuichi smiles, making miniscule thrusts, just before bringing his digits to Kokichi's uvula.

Everything is so soft and wet that Shuichi wants to keep going. Yet he can't, because his lover's gag reflex is already kicking in. So he rubs that wonderfully warm ball of tissue, glands, and fibers. Its smooth surface quivers from each touch. Then Kokichi's body seizes from familiar convulsions.

Most of them occur inside of first.

Pressure and muscle contractions cause Kokichi to near seize around the cock penetrating him. He retches just once, a prelude, continuously squeezing down while his body readies itself. Shuichi can't stop himself from groaning from satisfaction. The man feels his cock throb and lovingly strokes that squishy collection of flesh.

Retching, the sound one that Shuichi has learned to be almost arousing. And it is when it's Kokichi doing it too. He finds it an inexplicable and undeniably true development. The Detective spreads his fingers into the cavity of an already wide open mouth, "You've ruined me."

Kokichi must look absolutely lost now. The pressure increases with each repetitive motion and noise. Even their bodies are moving in anticipation now. Certainly, those purple eyes must be lost to lust. Unthinking and unseeing, discomfort mixing with the same need that has turned Kokichi into a tight strung thread.

First comes a sudden flood of saliva. Then abdominal muscles shift for one last purpose, Kokichi's whole body following suit, relentless to the point that Shuichi can feel near painful bliss from it. He pulls his soaked fingers out so that they won't be obstructive- merely holding Kokichi's mouth open. The other man pushes his head just over the edge of the desk.

Second comes a stronger constriction, synchronized with helpless and gasping retching. All that can be done is a comforting rub of Kokichi's neck. The other man shivers in a way that emboldens lust-

It always sounds horrible in the first few seconds. Like a belch gone wrong, but Shuichi can see each little sign of enjoyment. The way that Kokichi's right pinky is twitching. Or how he's so over taken that Shuichi can feel the delirious crescent moon of his lips. A matching groan leaves the Detective's lips while he basks. 

He can feel the rush of liquid heat as it happens. Shuichi can even feel how all that built up pressure is used. Kokichi's body still spasms, but now it happens while the other man is gaining release. Being able to fulfill his leader's needs is all Shuichi himself needs. 

Kokichi's vomit is hot and rather thin- lacking chunks while the fluid spills out in concentrated bursts. It appears to be kind of off-white. Something that happens when the Ultimate Supreme Leader has only eaten ice cream all day. The sight isn't what Shuichi prefers, truly, but watching the substance being expelled while Kokichi heaves and strains and gasps… 

"Uhhrah- uhaa-"

Experiencing his boyfriend like this is always arousing. 

Another round of pungent fluids is forced out, splattering loudly against the hardwood flooring. Shuichi can only imagine the mindless look on his lover's face. 

Just a few thrusts is all it takes. 

This time, Kokichi cums while savagely biting into the skin of Shuichi’s fingers. He grunt-screams like a beast and one hand slaps against the table. But his mouth goes slack just as quickly. Shuichi keeps his fingers where they are, preferring to be bitten instead of Kokichi. Especially now that puke is involved. 

All while the most sublime sensations wrack him as well. They seize him through Kokichi's body, shared via how the man seems to embody a rhythm of pleasure. Shuichi’s hips stutter until he forces himself still. He ends up biting into the pale and sweaty neck below him. From there, he rides out the aftershocks of Kokichi's orgasm- biting harder when his own hits. 

Relief in the form of twin sounds, sighing moans, marks the end of their reunion. Shuichi laughs while happily spilling himself inside of his lover's ass. He moans before nuzzling Kokichi's shoulder blade. It takes a few moments to pull himself out, but Kokichi seems to finally be at peace. 

Shuichi’s nose wrinkles slightly from the smell of vomit. He supposes that it is the nature of the metaphorical beast, not too different from other sex mishaps. 

His fingers leave Kokichi's panting mouth and wipe themselves on an already dirtied cape. Then, slowly, the Detective pulls out. Kokichi himself is a sight to see. Limp but happily twitching all over, the man looks like he's had the time of his life. Complete with a familiar grin that nevertheless betrays discomfort. 

"I'm gross," Kokichi snorts, cringing afterwards. "But Saihara-chan is worse."

"Absolutely," the Ultimate Detective dryly agrees. But he doesn't really, with either opinions, and so tucks purple highlighted hair behind a red ear. Kokichi watches him with satisfaction in his eyes and drops of vomit on his chin. 

They're both covered with sweat. 

Water is what Shuichi soon goes to grab. He leaves Kokichi with a small pat and walks over to the water cooler. It takes about five seconds to fill up a paper cup with cool water, and Shuichi grabs one for Kokichi to spit into as well. From there he finds himself going back and forth. Watching Kokichi, now flippantly perched upon the desk, swish and spat out doubtlessly disgusting liquids.

"Ugh, hey concubine-chan? Grab the florescent yellow bag I stashed under the guest chair," comes a command paired with a grimace. 

Golden eyes narrow as a picture begins to paint itself. The man obeys, kneeling beside a deep green armchair and reaching beneath- squinting at dark wood and elegant Victorian leaf designs. His clean hand soon finds a small travel pouch. 

After looking inside he can only sigh, "You brought a tooth brush."

"Yeppers!" 

Cheerful and nonchalant confirmation, but Kokichi has always been the type of genius to do such things.

To guess at what the Ultimate Supreme Leader wants takes no effort at all. Shuichi stands up and returns to the other man, meeting eyes both glazed over and perfectly alert. He wholeheartedly accepts the affectionate feelings that well up. Just the way that he is, both of them, and Kokichi's mouth opens with a silent command.

One of many clean cups of water becomes disturbed by the toothbrush.

"Aaaaah!" Kokichi mocking vocalizes, and utterly loses the moment white toothpaste is squeezed onto soft bristles. 

Purple eyes flutter closed just before the right side of an open mouth plays host. Fingers gently rests upon the desk, and Shuichi momentarily observes the combination of patience and submission before him. Then he slowly runs the toothbrush across molars, premolars, canines and incisors. One end to the other, above and below- he evenly spreads minty toothpaste.

The sound of the brush is almost comforting. It swishes against pearly whites and helps build up a purifying froth. Kokichi stays perfectly still with his tongue laying lax.

Again Shuichi uses the brush to go all around Kokichi's mouth. 

Shuichi then settles on the bottom left side of Kokichi's mouth. He carefully rubs slow circles against the back of Kokichi's molars. Watching the bristles flick around the tops and natural shape is almost exciting. Even if he, of course, cannot quite see due to the lack of aimed lighting. It's still good enough that he finds his spare hand cupping Kokichi's jaw. 

With a deep breath the man continues his work. The Detective smiles too, blinking while drawing the brush to the top of those far back molars. He notes where Kokichi has had sugar induced fillings, spaces that look slightly different, but there's not a hint of discoloration that Shuichi can see. It's a somewhat odd thing to be proud of. 

Not that it's totally strange considering Kokichi's fondness for sweets and kink for occasionally throwing up. Both sugar and stomach acid are far from kind to tooth enamel... 

A canine tooth is given near obsessive attention while Shuichi hums.

It goes on until all that's left is carefully swiping gums. And then Shuichi momentarily scrapes the brush upon Kokichi's tongue, not daring to go too far back. He stops when the toothpaste as long ago made its way down Kokichi's chin. Almost reminiscent of cum rather than anything like bile. Kokichi's eyes crack open, watching Shuichi use a tissue to wipe away spillage, and the man obediently rinses his mouth until he's told to stop.

The two men are quiet as one of Shuichi’s fingers inspects smooth and clean teeth. 

"You're more into clean up than shoving your fingers up against that thing, huh... Then again!" Kokichi ends up exclaiming, "Saihara-chan always cums more when I do that. All the convulsions must feel good."

Gold and purple meet, Kokichi giving subtle challenge, "It's not like I'd stop you. Really, I suppose that Ouma-kun has me developing an interest as well. But I should clean up properly."

He's half way done scrubbing when a pale foot rests on the crown of his head.

"Saihara-chan's biggest flaw is that he's far too indulgent. Why, he'd toootally just lick up my sick with his mouth if I said pretty please. And he'd let me fuck his face until he blows chunks all over my dick."

"..."

"Just kidding. Forgot about the oral ejaculate you coaxed via throat cli-"

"Ouma-kun!"

"I waaaant cudddddlesss, waaaaah!"

Kokichi returns to a more quiet and affectionate self after that. He does sullenly mumble that being the vomiter each time isn't fair, which Shuichi rewards with a small kiss. An exaggerate frown greets the man in response. But Kokichi doesn't shy away from Shuichi’s arms hoisting him up. The man actually laughs, a mint clacking against his teeth. 

When they're both on a somewhat too modern lounge chair, bought by Kokichi himself, there's nothing to do but snuggle against soft purple fabric.

"If Ouma-kun really wants..."

Toss over to stare at Shuichi right in the eyes, Kokichi chews up his soft breath mint and smiles,"I love you too, beloved! Good niiiiight."

Shuichi is too gobsmacked to respond beyond letting Kokichi slowly become the big spoon.

A good reunion- all in all.

**Author's Note:**

> Man I wish I could call Shuichi my bed warmer


End file.
